Intruder
by johnsarmylady
Summary: Someone, or something has woken Sherlock and John in the middle of the night. A story told in four chapters, each one a 221B. Rated K
1. Rude Awakening

**Disclaimer: Don't own, never did, but if ever I do...bwahahahaha!**

Maybe he had imagined it, but Sherlock knew he really didn't have that kind of imagination.

Maybe it had been part of a bad dream, but John knew somehow this was too tame.

It seemed the flatmates both had the same idea, as each exited their bedroom, creeping towards the noise that had disturbed them both.

It was fortunate that the two men knew each other so very well, that each was familiar with the other's actions and reactions, that they could recognise the sound of their friend's footsteps, so that when they met at the foot of the stairs neither was mistaken for an intruder.

They stood side by side in the darkened hallway, and in silence looked at each other. Sherlock noted that John had his gun, carried unobtrusively in his right hand, while he carried a police ASP telescopic baton, filched from Sergeant Sally Donovan a few months ago.

Blue eyes met grey, and in silent agreement they moved together, Sherlock leading, John as ever watching his back.

First to the kitchen, where nothing it seemed was out of place, then through the open door to the living room. Sherlock took a couple of steps and then stilled; tension in every line of his body. John stepped around him, ready to shoot to defend his friend.

"Hello boys!"


	2. Dead Gangsters

"What are you doing here? I thought you were dead?"

"All the best criminals are dead criminals." Came the offhand reply. "Look at Jesse James, or if you prefer to look closer to home, the Kray Twins."

"Jesse James was a thief and a murderer who was killed by one of his own men, not a role model I would aspire to emulate." Sherlock sneered.

"And the Krays were a pair of psychotic mummy's boys, with a predilection for torture." John added, his gun never wavering from the intruder sitting in front of him.

"Ah, but you miss the point. They are all remembered, no matter the mode of their death or their state of mind." One elegantly clad shoulder shrugged, the exquisitely tailored jacket rippling with the movement. "My name will be on everyone's lips, and I'm not even dead yet."

"You could be soon." Sherlock crossed to the couch, being careful to stay out of John's line of fire.

"Oh I don't think so." Shrewd eyes took in the doctor's protective stance, the calm readiness. "No Doctor Watson, you're no killer. And unless I make a move towards your… your what? Partner? Lover?"

"Friend." John answered, his voice harsh.

"Yes, your friend. Well, unless I make a move towards him, I don't believe you'll kill me in cold blood."


	3. Revelation

The silence in the flat was almost palpable, as the intruder leaned back in the chair and smirked.

"I wonder just what it would take for you to actually shoot me, Doctor Watson. After all, army medical officers are only supposed to shoot in self-defence."

"Just try me." John replied quietly. "I'm sure Sherlock will testify that you attacked me."

"What, would you do that Sherlock? Lie for your little pet?" a look of mock horror, almost comical in its exaggeration, was replaced by a knowing smile. "Oh I don't think so, do you? I think it more likely you'll ask big brother to arrange things."

"I don't need my brother's help."

"Shame, have you two had a little tiff?"

"No." Sherlock rose and walked to the window, looking down on the quiet street below. "Maybe I should have said my brother doesn't need my help. You see, where you are concerned, my brother has his own agenda."

"Yes, I thought he might have."

"So I'll ask you again, what are you doing here?"

"I want your help."

"Want or need?"

"Both, if I'm honest."

John choked on a laugh.

"You? Honest? You wouldn't know honesty if it bit you." he turned to his friend. "You don't actually believe this, do you?"

"I believe that Miss Adler is a manipulative bitch!"


	4. Nemesis

**Apologies for the late arrival of this fourth and final instalment of Intruder - I have been away from home awaiting the late arrival of my first Grandchild (no excuse, I know - sorry!)**

"I need to leave the country."

"You should never have come back here."

"I had to; Italy wasn't safe for me anymore."

"And it was my understanding that you died in Italy, got on the wrong side of the Mafia."

"I had help getting away." Irene had the grace to blush.

Resigned, John said "You knew the hit man."

"She knew what he liked." Sherlock sneered, mimicking her trade mark phrase. "And I supposed you used a body double again?"

She nodded.

"And what's in it for me?"

Uncrossing her legs, Miss Adler stood up and took a step towards the consulting detective. Putting a scarlet nailed hand on his bare chest she smiled up into his face.

"I can make it worth your while."

"Not interested."

Irene shot an accusing glance over her shoulder at John.

"I'm not gay!" he exclaimed, exasperated.

"Are you sure?"

"Oh he's sure." Sherlock smirked, stepping away from her, "But now I'm afraid I have to disappoint you further, you see it's really not within my power to help you leave the country. Unfortunately you have grossly overestimated my abilities this time."

She frowned, he smiled sweetly.

"However," he added, "if you listen closely, you will hear the unmistakable sound of your approaching Nemesis."

"My Nemesis?" Fear twisted her features as Sherlock grinned.

"My brother!"


End file.
